


Her Princess

by SimplyKorra



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Adora is a knight, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Catra is a princess, F/F, Medieval but also mixed with some canonical stuff, Protective Catra (She-Ra), Shadow Weaver has a creepy infatuation with Adora, both in this story and in canon, you know the rest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29430648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyKorra/pseuds/SimplyKorra
Summary: Dying in an unwinnable battle would have been giving up.Surrendering and letting herself live was how she could keep fighting. Even if the Horde were a horrendous monarchy intent on ruling every corner of Etheria. As long as she was here, maybe she could make enough good choices, have enough small influences to make some kind of a difference.If Adora could save even one life as a member of Lord Hordak’s Royal Guard, then maybe it wouldn’t all be for nothing.ORA Knight Adora/Princess Catra AU
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 98
Kudos: 339





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I was having a lot of trouble writing after I finished The Night Shift and I realized it was because I was just trying to recreate that story in different plots/settings/etc. I needed to branch out. I needed to try something different and that has led me here - to something so far out of my usual scope that I am terrified of it lol. 
> 
> I am no expert on Medieval stuff, so that is why this story is more of a Medieval vibe, but also has a lot of canon influence. The world, the magic, the characters - they're all as they were in the show, only the setting and time has changed. 
> 
> A few heads up, there's some violence in this story. Some fighting and pretty grim stuff. Also Weaver is extra creepy in it and has a weird obsession with Adora. 
> 
> I couldn't sit in this any longer. I needed to get it out and see what you all think, so please let me know :)

“What is your name?” 

Kneeling down before the King, she lowered her head, hands crossed over one knee as she spoke firmly. “Adora Grayskull, your majesty.” 

There was a pause, Adora kept her eyes focused on the green and black carpet that had been laid out across the stone floor leading up to the throne. “Adora Grayskull, you have been brought to me by the leader of my Knights Guard at your request for submission - an offering for the crimes of your people. Do you accept your standing in my kingdom?” 

Adora swallowed the lump in her throat. It seemed strange to hear herself called an offering. The truth was, she came here as a last ditch effort to save what little remaining bit of her home was left after Horde’s army wiped almost all of them out. 

There was only one answer to give that would keep her alive. “I do, your majesty.” 

“Let this be a lesson, the reach of my words here today shall spread across the entirety of Etheria. I, _Lord_ Hordak, rule this land and anyone who dares challenge this kingdom will be met with the same, swift fate as this girl’s people were. The end will forever be the same. A knee bent and a life devoted. There is no other means to survive that submission.”

Closing her eyes, Adora gave one final thought to her home - to her family and the life she once had. It was gone now, a memory meant to torment her but never be broached again. She knew better. 

“Adora Grayskull,” another voice spoke. A woman, she spoke slow and steady, but filled with contempt. “You are hereby assigned to the Knights Guard, you will be in service to Lord Hordak and the royal family for the remainder of your days upon Etheria. Do you understand?” 

“I do,” Adora opened her eyes, letting go of every flash of memory and happiness she’d once had. 

“Then rise, Knight Guard and find your way to the barracks. You will be assigned at dawn.” 

Pushing to her feet, he back burned with the pain of the new scar they’d given her.

Adora felt so many eyes on her, dozens of them. The faces she saw were all unfamiliar - nobody in this kingdom knew her. They were the enemy just days before - the dreaded Horde closing in more and more on the place she called home. 

The soldiers she saw lining the aisles, they’d killed her family and friends. They’d burned her village and tore her life apart. 

Her only means of survival was submission - surrender. Now she was here. A Knight of the Horde. 

A traitor in her own heart, but she’d buried that with her memories.

The castle throne room was immense, far bigger than she’d ever imagined. There were columns and statues of Lord Hordak - aisles that stacked up high like a coliseum and people all gathered around to watch the final hope of the First Ones bend the knee to her new Lord. 

If Adora wasn’t known across the lands for her skill in fighting, she’d be of no use to them. She’d be stacked up in a pit with the rest of her village. 

As she made her way out of the throne room, ignoring the jeers and glares all around her, Adora wondered if death would have been better. Certainly it would have been more noble, but as she stood on the battlefield watching her comrades fall one by one, she knew it was a fight she couldn’t win. 

A part of her cried out to keep fighting - to stand for as long as she could. But the more she did, the more she realized it would do no good to die that day. Her whole life, all Adora had ever known was to try. She tried in everything she did - to help people and do the right thing. She tried, even when the world kept taking from her. It was how she was raised, by Mara and Razz - to never give up. 

So she didn’t, in her own way. Dying in an unwinnable battle would have been giving up. 

Surrendering and letting herself live was how she could keep fighting. Even if the Horde were a horrendous monarchy intent on ruling every corner of Etheria. As long as she was here, maybe she could make enough good choices, have enough small influences to make some kind of a difference. 

If she could save even one life as a member of Lord Hordak’s Royal Guard, then maybe it wouldn’t all be for nothing. 

As she made her way out of the throne room, Adora took in the sights of Fright Castle. It was different from the castles she’d seen throughout Etheria - almost crackling with some kind of energy. Adora knew Lord Hordak’s war was against magic and those who wielded it, but there was something here that felt on the same level. 

The walls stood tall and looming, guards stood in every direction. Watching, waiting, daring anyone to step out of line. Adora felt so lost here, so out of place - how was this her future now? Every day she would have to wake up here and survive? There was no hope of happiness. No chance at love or laughter or freedom.

It was a depressing thought, one Adora buried as deeply as she could. There was no time to cry about it, no time to show weakness. If she did, this place felt as if it could eat her alive. 

Just as she reached what looked to be the knights barracks, a heavy rain started to fall from the sky as if the clouds themselves had been torn open. It was an all consuming pour, the drops hitting the stone of the castle with such force each one made a unique sound. 

The rain here felt colder, like it might burrow into Adora’s skin and freeze over her blood. She wrapped her arms around herself as she approached the barracks, unsure if she would be able to just walk in. 

That question was answered quickly when another guard, a woman with broad shoulders and scowl in her one eye not covered, walked up to her. “Well well, if it isn’t the First One’s favorite pet soldier.” She cackled like a withering old crow - the fat ones that eat too much when picking on dead bodies and pretending they’ve actually done something. “Look at you, absolutely pathetic aren’t you? Always knew you were a pampered pile of shit, but to see you actually surrender yourself to the Horde? Embarrassing.”

“If I’d waited any longer I might have gotten your other eye - then you wouldn’t have had to watch me surrender,” Adora said, wishing she hadn’t but unable to stop. 

The soldier’s eye narrowed, head tilted to the side in anger. 

Adora closed her eyes because she knew what was coming. 

A fist landed directly into her stomach, doubling her over. She fell to her knees for the second time today. Both of them forced in very different ways. 

“You really think you’re in a position to speak to me like that? To speak at all?” The knight turned around. “Hey, need some help over here with the new girl!” 

Adora tried to push to her feet as she heard several wet footsteps approach her. Before she could make it all the way up, there were people grabbing at her arms, someone pulling on her hair and holding her head up. 

She was fully restrained now, rain falling into her face and eyes as she looked up at the woman with one eye snarling down at her. A most triumphant smirk on her face. 

“You’d do well to remember that you are alone here. To us, your _fellow_ soldiers, you are fodder. Do you understand?” 

Stubborn as ever, Adora held her ground.

“She’s talking to you,” one of them said, jerking on her hair in the process. 

Adora had no time to respond before another fist found its way to her ribs - this one seemed to hit directly between two bones, way more painful than the first. This time when she recoiled into herself, she was still being held by the arms so the pain seemed to radiate even more. 

A hand pinched her cheeks, holding her face up and forcing her to stare at her one eyed attacker. 

“Know your place if you wish to avoid further humiliation.” 

They let her go and Adora fell into the ever growing mud, her stomach burning in pain, her heart aching and her back soaked with the falling rain. 

As she laid there, Adora wondered how much rain would have to fall before a large enough puddle of water would grow that it might drown her. 

Maybe, she thought, it was a mistake to think she could do this. To think that anyone would be strong enough to survive here in the way she was trying. 

Taking a deep breath, Adora dug her hands into the mud and pushed herself up. It was hard, and the blows she took were just now starting to really sting, but she couldn’t show weakness. She was here, she’d made her choice, she couldn’t give up on the first day. 

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” The voice speaking sounded genuinely concerned, which was somehow even more unsettling than the people who were clearly out to hurt her. Adora turned to look at the person approaching, only to see an absurdly large and well built woman walking towards her. “Did you fall? I fall a lot, especially in the mud when it rains. It can be so dang slippery!” 

Adora frowned, staring up at a pair of kind and almost...innocent eyes. Was this another prisoner turned soldier? 

“I’m fine,” Adora said, but still took the offered hand when she stood. Hands covered by massive mits - almost like clubs. 

“You sure, because you’re covered in mud and you - oh!” The woman slowed when Adora winced and clutched at her stomach. “You’re hurt!”

“S’okay,” Adora forced herself to stand. “I just...need to find the barracks and wash up.”

“Oh right, are you joining the Knights Guard?” Adora nodded. “Great! I’m a part of that! I can show you the way! You were on the right path. I know what it’s like to get lost here. I’ve been here for almost twenty winters and I still have trouble finding my way around. I swear the walls in this castle change positions sometimes!” 

As the woman continued to speak, Adora followed dutifully. It was hard not to, this was the only person in these castle walls that had not looked at Adora like she was the enemy. So far, the only one who had helped her up instead of forcing her to the ground in one way or another. 

She followed as they made their way into another part of the castle. This one far less well decorated than that of Lord Hordak. There were no fancy carpets, the candles lit here had all burned for so long that there was a thick layer of wax all along the awnings. 

It was much colder and had a distinct smell of mold and something else Adora couldn’t quite place - she hoped the rainfall would wash away the smell because it was nearly unbearable. 

They passed the dining hall where a gathering of knights were all sitting together, talking far too loudly and drinking. 

Why wouldn’t they be? They’d just won a two years long battle. 

Eventually, the noise died down and the large woman led Adora to a much more narrow area. There were long hallways and they all had little nooks every five or so feet apart. It was dark and what flicking candle light there hardly helped. 

“It’s not as bad in the morning, or when the sun is out. Rain Storms can make navigating through here a little tricky! Just don’t walk in on anyone using the latrine, they get really upset about that.” She spoke from what sounded like experience. Adora could only imagine the beating she’d get if that happened. 

“I can wash up here?”

A delighted nod. “Yep!. There’s water and washrags in each stall, and a hole to do your business. If you have a change of clothes, you can do that here too and you...might...what?”

Adora must have been making some kind of face. “I don’t have a change of clothes.” She said, looking down at what was left of her outfit. Just her underclothes. She’d had her armor stripped and destroyed when she surrendered. She watched as they melted it down, threatening over and over again to throw her in with it. 

She almost wished they had when they branded the Horde symbol onto her back. 

“Oh right! That makes sense if you’re new! I can fetch you some night clothes and a tabard. Then we can get you fitted for your new armor in the morning before training.”

Adora nodded, knowing full well training meant she’d be a punching bag. “I...thank you,” she cast her head down. “You’re not like the other knights I’ve met.” 

“Yeah, they’re all kind of cranky, and I don’t really see the point in that. It’s hard enough fighting a war and living here where it rains all the time. Not sure why you would want to add a foul mood to that!”

“I like that,” Adora said, a faint smile threatening to escape. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Scorpia! Knight guard to Lady Entrapta!” 

“Entrapta?” 

Scorpia nodded. “She’s the blacksmith and overall tinkerer - kind of hard to keep track of, but it is my duty to do exactly that! She’s fun, and a little scary - and kind of boring.” Scorpia held up her hands. “But after I lost these in a battle, they didn’t want to risk putting me out in combat, so I stay here and protect Lady Entrapta while she does her work for the Horde.”

Adora had assumed as such with the hands, the way they were all balled up and covered, it would be inefficient in any other circumstance. 

“Well even without hands, you’ve managed to keep yourself strong.”

Scorpia beamed. “Thank you! I never really had _hands,_ but you're still so kind!" Adora frowned at the suggestion that Scorpia never had...hands, but decided to keep quiet. "So are you! I mean look at you, I can see your muscles under your torn underclothes!” 

“Oh,” Adora looked down at her exposed midriff and covered herself. “I could really use a change.”

“Of course!” Scorpia started to move. “I’ll find you something to wear, you pick one of these stalls and clean up, you can throw your clothes in one of the holes if you need to, it’ll all be taken to the river anyway.”

With a slow nod, Adora watched Scorpia disappear down the hallway. 

That left Adora here, in the dark and alone again. 

She took a deep breath and found her way into one of the stalls. It had a window, but the outside was so gloomy and dark it hardly added any light. Still, it was nice to look out at the vast valley that stretched beyond the castle walls. She could see the river just below, flowing powerfully as it always did, but even more so with the rain. Beyond that was the Whispering Woods, where the last vestige of hope for Etheria’s battle against the Horde remained. 

That was where Adora and the last of her people were trying to reach. To join the rebellion and stand against the Horde. 

They hadn’t made it, and now Adora was here, in service to Lord Hordak and she would probably be sent to destroy the Rebellion and bring Lord Hordak his full power over Etheria. 

Even if Adora knew, deep down, she wouldn’t allow that to happen. Even if it cost her her life. Even if it was the stupidest thing she could ever do. If the time came when Hordak might snuff out the last remaining resistance against him, Adora would find a way to put a sword through his chest. 

For now though, all she wanted to do was not feel like she’d been rolling around in the mud for two straight days. 

Carefully, Adora stripped out of her underclothes and felt a burning sensation in her ribs. She looked down, trying to make out anything she could in the darkness. There was a bit of discoloration, but nothing too severe. They just hurt, everything hurt and she was pretty sure it would for a long time. 

Adora tossed her underclothes into the hole, not wanting to risk looking through it to see where they might end up. Instead, she found a bucket of water sitting next to it and a few rags lying alongside. 

She took her time and made sure to clean up as best as she could. There was more dried blood on her body than she’d expected. A few scrapes on her arms and red bunched up under her fingertips. The battle had been brutal and long, her body ached for rest. If she had to fall to her knees one more time today she wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it back to her feet. 

Adora’s mind wandered to the battle - what she remembered. Standing her ground as so many around her fell. The Horde’s numbers were unmatched, but their true strength came in their lack of heart. They threw themselves into battle with little regard for survival. It was unnerving and unstoppable. 

Mara had told her as much, told her countless times that the battle against Lord Hordak was unwinnable - but Adora didn’t listen. 

She wanted too badly to believe in good, to believe in the hope given to her. That she was the one who could turn the tide. The First Ones had never seen a soldier so skilled, so powerful and so determined.

Her whole life, that’s what Adora had been taught, been trained for - and she failed. 

Then the cowardice inside of her refused to die in battle, instead surrendering and now she was here - a prisoner of war with the enemy’s symbol forever etched into her skin. 

“Adora,” that voice, slow and terrifying, filled her ears. It felt as if it was coming from every wall of the castle. 

She turned and saw glowing, white eyes staring at her. A face covered by a mask and the familiar pulse of magic permeating all around this daunting figure. 

Keeping her back to the woman, Adora bowed her head, uncaring that she was naked and exposed, but also hoping the darkness would protect her a little. “My lady,” she said, unsure of how to address this woman. 

“You are...something, aren’t you. So powerful and...beautiful.” Adora closed her eyes, willing her hands to stop shaking as she felt this woman take a few steps towards her. “There is something special in you, something...unique.” A hand fell on Adora’s shoulder, it made her skin tingle.

Snake like fingers crawled along her neck, Adora didn’t dare move. “I’m nothing special, ma’am. Just a soldier.”

“Oh Adora,” her thumb dusted along Adora’s throat. “You are so much more than that. Just you wait - I’ll show you.” The hand removed itself and Adora exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding. “Come morning, I expect you to make your way to the throne room, you will find me there and I will give you your assignment. Do not make me wait, do you understand?” 

Adora nodded. “Yes, my lady. I’ll be there.”

“So formal, so proper,” the woman laughed at her. “You may refer to me as Shadow Weaver - I am no royal figure.” The next words spoken felt like they were coming from inside Adora’s head - magic. “I am your salvation, dear. I can keep you alive.” 

A moment later, the feeling was gone and so was Shadow Weaver. 

The tears threatened again, but Adora continued to hold them back. It would only be harder for her if everyone here saw her break. No, she had to be strong, she had to keep her head up - she had to fight. Even if she wasn’t holding her sword and riding on Swift Wind, she had to keep fighting. 

“Okay! I found you something to sleep in!” Adora jumped at the sound of Scorpia’s voice, hiding herself behind the wall and covering up. “Wow, why is it so cold in here all of the sudden? Adora, are you there?!”

“I’m here,” she said, leaning her head around the corner and reaching out for the clothes. “Thank you, Scorpia.”

“Of course!” She handed them over, the brightest smile on her face. It seemed so out of place. “I told the armory to expect you tomorrow too! So when you get some time swing by there before training and get outfitted. Also I can wait outside if you want and then show you to the beds. I’m...you look like you could use a rest.” 

Adora was exhausted, but a part of her knew that she wouldn't be able to find sleep tonight. She wondered how long it would take to feel comfortable enough to sleep here. Would she live long enough to find out?

Still, she wasn’t about to stick her nose up at Scorpia’s kindness. 

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.” 

* * *

As the sun rose, Adora felt entirely unrested - she had fallen asleep at some point, long after she ran out of tears to cry. 

The barracks were much larger than she expected and to her surprise, she’d been given her own space. It was small and uncomfortable, but Adora was appreciative of the privacy. Even if she was fully aware that they had chained her door shut. 

She was still a prisoner, at least for now, until they put her in their armor. 

The sound of the chain being removed drew her off the mat on the floor. She stood, her back sore from the brand and the stone she’d laid on all night, but nothing she couldn't handle. Her ribs hurt too, but even that ache had dulled. Adora had always had a high tolerance for pain - apparently the universe was intent on testing that. 

“Come on,” someone called out. It was a new voice she hadn’t heard. Not Scorpia or the one eyed woman. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to ready yourself before training.”

Adora stood up, hands behind her back. “I was asked by Shadow Weaver to meet her in the throne room this morning for assignment.”

This person sighed and when Adora made her way out of the chamber, she saw her. A shorter, stocky woman with long, tangled hair and a stern face. She looked tired, overworked and mean, but not in the same way as the one eyed woman. No, this person was mad, but it seemed like that was just her nature. “Of course you were,” she said. “Alright, go talk to Weaver and then come back, if Octavia asks you’d better tell her about the Weaver thing. Don’t throw me into a stampede. I’m just doing my job.”

“I will,” Adora nodded, still unsure of whether to move or not.

The woman rolled her eyes. “Go!” 

Adora did, taking off for the throne room and ignoring the looks of the other knights as they started their day. 

The sun was out this morning, a welcome sight. The ground beneath her feet was still wet and sticky with mud from the rain that fell throughout the night, but the warmth in the air was nice. Adora could see the castle slowly coming to life in the wake of a new day - it was much more vibrant now. Banners were hung with the Horde symbol in every direction. 

So there was no chance you’d forget where you were. 

Not that Adora ever would.

Even the throne room felt different in the light of day. Sun poured in through the slotted windows that lined the walls on the right side, painting the stone beneath Adora’s feet with light. Her soles were worn and bloody from walking without shoes for the last two days, but hopefully she’d be fitted for new boots today. She was tired of walking through this place without armor. It made her feel too vulnerable. 

The other thing of note about the throne room now was how much emptier it was. The throws of people who were standing around watching her humiliation yesterday were gone. Even Lord Hordak himself was nowhere to be seen - his throne empty and only a few people stood around it reading parchments and conversing quietly.

Adora stopped just short of being within earshot of them, instead decided to wait and hope that Weaver would find her. She elt out of place here, dressed in only a tattered gambeosen and nothing more. She looked around, trying and failing not to study what she saw. Adora was a strategist, she was a soldier and she knew how to take what she saw and exploit it’s weaknesses. 

Like the steps leading up to the throne - too wide, too easy to climb in a hurry if needed. To rush an unknowing Lord and drive her sword through his heart. 

Nobody would be able to stop her in time. They’d kill her on the way down, but the deed would be done - the world would be free. 

She forced herself to stop - there was nothing she could do right now. She didn’t even have a sword. 

“Adora,” that voice, the way she said her name, it sent a chill down Adora’s spine. “Punctual as expected,” she met Weaver’s eyes, or the painted versions of them on her mask. Weaver moved with such purpose, almost as if she were gliding. Adora couldn’t help but notice that her presence in the throne room made everyone else silent. “How did you sleep, dear?” 

Adora kept eye contact, her face emotionless. “Fine,” she said. 

Weaver nodded. “I know the cell in the barracks can be uncomfortable. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that though. Your new assignment should see you moved to the guards room in the Royal chamber.”

That got Adora’s attention, if only because she was sincerely hoping she wasn’t going to be assigned as Weaver’s personal guard - not with the way Weaver looked at her and...touched her. 

“I am prepared for whatever you may ask of me.”

“Such a proper girl,” the tone was borderline condescending. “This is for you,” a burst of magical energy filled the throne room. Adora wondered how this was allowed, all she’d heard growing up was Hordak’s hatred of magic, his plans to rid Etheria of it forever. Yet, he had his own sorceress, one who seemed connected to every part of this castle. 

Suddenly, a light burst from Weaver’s hand, a booming energy that Adora could swear made her blood pulse. She watched as that light took shape, sharp and beautiful, a sword appeared like a star that had been freshly pulled from the sky. 

Only this wasn’t a mirage - instead, the sword took shape and light started to reflect off of it. When Weaver reached out, she held it and the sword had weight. She’d made it appear out of nowhere. 

“This is the Sword of Protection.” Weaver held the sword in both hands, cradling it like a child. “The sword wielded by the one who is asked to protect that which is considered valuable in this realm. A sword I am giving to you as part of your position here in Lord Hordak’s rule.”

Seeing the sword held out to her, Adora reached out carefully and grabbed the hilt. It was heavy, more so than the sword she’d carried in the First Ones army. Still, it felt comfortable, perhaps more so than her old weapon. 

This sword felt like it was made _for_ her. 

“I will carry it with honor.”

“You will make sure that nothing ever comes between you and that sword, do I make myself clear.” The cutting tone of her words drew Adora away from her trance. She felt her head bow. 

“Yes, my lady.”

“Please,” those hands found their way onto her again, this time wrapping around her wrists. “Call me Shadow Weaver.”

Adora swallowed the lump in her throat. “Of course, Shadow Weaver.”

“Now then, as to your assignment. It is with great...resignation that while I wish to keep you close, Lord Hordak has decided you are best fit to be the Knight’s Guard to Princess Catra."

That was a surprise. She had assumed she’d be cleaning out the bogs or standing in as a target practice dummy. 

“I...I what?” Adora hated when she stammered, it’s why she didn’t talk much around people she didn’t know. “You wish for me to guard a princess?”

“Lord Hordak’s bastard, yes. She is...a pest - but she serves a purpose here in this kingdom and her protection is of importance to Lord Hordak.” Adora couldn’t believe it - she didn’t even know Hordak had a child. The stories all told of Hordak were that he had no family of any kind. It was almost as if he’d fallen from the sky one day and started tearing Etheria apart. 

“I will, Shadow Weaver. I will guard her with my life.” 

Adora couldn’t see it, but she imagined a devilish smirk on Weaver’s face as she spoke. “Good, child...good. You will be subjugated to her. You will protect her. You will do as she bids necessary and you _will_ keep an eye on her for me.”

That made Adora frown. “I will?”

“Princess Catra is... _troubled_. She cares more about the chaos she can inflict on this kingdom than she does about her role in it. Because of that, she has been removed from the public eye and is mostly kept isolated. With the end of this war drawing closer, we are concerned about attempts on her life and more so, worried about what she might do to deter the Horde’s rise simply out of boredom or spite.” 

That didn’t sound right. She was Hordak’s daughter, why would she cause trouble? Why wouldn’t she be at his side, watching with the same joy Hordak had as he tore down kingdom after kingdom. 

Why did Adora care? She was just a pawn now, wasn’t she? A soldier - all she was good for. “Very well, Shadow Weaver. I will protect Princess Catra with my life, I will guard this sword until my final breath and I will keep you updated on everything.”

Weaver’s head tilted to the side, and a hand found its way to cup Adora’s cheek. “Hmmm, so very good, child. You are everything the stories speak of.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing, my dear - nothing for you to fuss over.” Weaver’s thumb kept stroking the same spot on Adora’s cheek - it made her stomach hurt. “I’ve notified the armory of your impending arrival - they already have your equipment prepared, simply tell them your name. Then report to Princess Catra in her chambers after training. She’s expecting you.” 

Adora nodded, they were orders and she was good at those. She could focus on that and not the endless pit of unanswered questions and crippling doubt swirling around in her chest. 

Taking a deep breath, Adora bent a knee and bowed to Shadow Weaver. “I will see it done.”

When she looked back up, Weaver was gone - only a trail of black magic in her wake. Adora looked around the throne room and saw that everyone there had calmed, returned to their work and their conversations. 

Adora stood up, clutching her new sword at her side.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really pleased with the early response to this. Glad you guys liked it because it was definitely a huge change of pace for me. I wanted to get this chapter out a little quick cause I know everyone was anxious to meet this world's Catra. 
> 
> Not too much else to say, thanks again for all the feedback, I hope you like this chapter too and the ones to come - the comments really and truly do motivate the hell out of me to keep writing and get these chapters out to you. Thank you :)

Adora found herself in the armory, sitting on a stumpy little stool as she heard the sound of metal being cast and hammered. She had been waiting for a good while, the blacksmith busy and giving her no free time, despite using Weaver’s name and mentioning she had a duty to find Princess Catra. 

He didn’t care, in fact, when she mentioned Weaver’s name it almost seemed to make him work slower. 

So she waited, her body warm from the casting fires - only finding brief solace when a gust of wind would blow through the one window in the chamber. Even that died quickly from the sweltering heat. 

She leaned forward on her new sword, it’s blade dug into the ground beneath her. The sword was steady and strong, she gently tested it’s durability by leaning her body weight against it. 

“Alright,” the scratchy voice of the blacksmith drew Adora’s attention. “That cutthroat slag was specific about what you’d be wearing and even more specific that you weren’t allowed to wear the usual Horde black plated armor.” Adora watched as he dragged a sack full of equipment towards her. It seemed heavy, but he got it there and dropped it at her feet. “I wasn’t given much on measurements - turns out when they capture you new kids they don’t seem to care much how hard that makes my job. If it’s too tight or loose I can do one adjustment, no more. Get it right the first time and leave me the fuck alone.”

Reaching down, Adora scooped up the first piece of armor she could find. It was a helmet, painted white with a pull down mask and gold tipped crown that rose from the cheeks up past the head. It was the nicest piece of armor Adora had ever seen. 

Why was this given to her? Wasn’t she just a prisoner? She was assigned to guard the princess, with armor far too good for someone who’d been fighting against the Horde just days earlier. 

What was the point of all this?

“Are you sure this is for me?” Adora asked, she had to. She’d hate to walk into Princess Catra’s chamber dressed wrong. To be executed for stupidity would be far worse than dying in battle. 

The blacksmith looked her over, the scar across his cheek seemed to deepen a darker shade of red with his glare. “Course I’m sure, you think I’m blind? Was commissioned by Shadow Weaver herself.”

“Oh…” Adora put the helmet down and stood up, reaching to fetch her chestplate. “It’s so nice.”

A scoff, “of course it is. If you find a piece of gold in a pile of shit you’ll still reach into the shit to fetch it, will you not?”

As Adora pulled the chestplate over her head, she frowned. “Am I the gold or the shit?”

“You are the shit. You are a traitor and an enemy in the sacred kingdom of Lord Hordak. You are a stain on this place and everyone here knows it. But maybe Weaver thinks if we cover you in enough fancy plating and fine crafted armor then the rest of the Horde will be able to look at you without throwing up their supper.”

It was tempting to scoff, to threaten and bark back at him. This tired old man who clearly was miserable with every single second of his life - but what was the point? What would she gain? Another enemy, one who actively makes the armor she wears. 

There was none, more than that, he wasn’t wrong. 

In the eyes of this kingdom, she was no better than a pile of shit. 

So in silence, Adora put the rest of her armor on, feeling safer with each piece she latched herself into. The boots were loose, but she decided she was okay with that, her toes could move and there would be less bleeding on long days. 

The gloves slipped on heavy, but welcome - they were easy to open and close her fingers. Metal plates on the wrists weighing them down, great for blocking strikes quickly. The entire suit was slimmer than what she was used to, it fit the contours of her body better than the standard First Ones gear she’d worn for years. 

This was, somehow, made for her. The gold trimmed plating meant to cover the stain of her existence in this castle. 

If that was the role Adora had to play to survive, so be it.

“Need any adjustments?” The blacksmith asked, not even bothering to look at her as he continued to hammer on something else. 

Adora knelt down, scooping up her sword and holding it. She twirled it in her grasp and took a few easy swings before sliding it gently into the holster at her side. 

“No,” she said, picking up her helmet and shaking the hair out of her face before sliding it on. A feeling of safety washing over her at being hidden behind the mask. “This will do fine.”

“Good, now get the…” his voice trailed off when he looked at her, if Adora didn’t know any better she’d swear there was awe in his eyes. “Go.” He commanded. 

Adora, despite her treatment, bowed her head. “Thank you for this,” she offered and smiled beneath the mask when he grunted and said nothing. 

This time, when Adora crossed the courtyard, the looks she got weren't of disgust, but of curiosity and surprise. She strode slowly, a path in her mind. She was to report to training and then find Princess Catra - an order and a job. She could do that, better than anyone else she knew. 

The armor made her feel stronger, capable - it gave her a shield against this place. 

By the time Adora found the training grounds, she had the itch to test her sword. It was heavy on her side, but a good weight. A reminder that if she absolutely had to, she could defend herself. Perhaps not against an entire castle, but she wouldn’t go down without a struggle. 

The training ground itself was massive - large stone pillars separated it from the rest of the field that stretched for vast acres across the land. The main castle was a backdrop, no doubt so those in higher positions could sit and watch if boredom struck them. 

Adora raised the mask of her helmet, letting the rising sun wash over her face. There were soldiers working already, she didn’t recognize any of them and many seemed to be struggling just to do proper technique and there were even a few who seemed daunted just by how heavy their blades were. 

It shouldn’t have surprised Adora at all that many of the Horde’s soldiers were simply captives forced into combat to save their lives. It had to be why so many Horde raids had that first wave that threw themselves on the enemies blades - cluttering up the battlefield for the second assault to strike. 

“Well well, look at our new golden knight!” That voice, Adora recognized it immediately. 

The one eyed woman from yesterday came sauntering over even more intimidating today than she was a day earlier. Now, she was in full armor and holding a shield in one hand and a spiked mace in the other. It dangled at her side, back straight and eyes - or eye - mischievous. “Pretty disgusting to see that they’re wasting good steel on trash like you, am I right?” She asked the other knights that surrounded her. 

They all laughed and cheered, some of them throwing curses at Adora. It all blended together but she knew, in her armor, none of them could touch her. 

“I am here to train,” she said simply, wrapping her hands around her blade.”What would you have me do?” 

There was a sudden rush of voices. “Let me have her, Octavia!”

“I’ll put that troll in her place!”

“I wash the ground with her blood!”

“Teach her respect, Octavia!”

So many threats, as Adora looked around at all of them, not one of their eyes proved they really wanted to fight her. It was always easier to be brave when surrounded by comrades. 

The only one who stepped forward was Octavia herself, now that Adora knew her name. She picked up her mace, hanging it over her shoulder and studied Adora. Octavia’s armor was dark plated, green etchings painted onto it with symbols and scripts that Adora didn’t recognize. 

The one familiar thing she saw was the emblem of the Horde. The same one burned across her back. 

“Tell you what, let’s start her off with a challenge, huh?” Octavia looked around, everyone clapping and shouting. “I call to combat, Kyle!” 

With that, the cheers stopped. 

The air around Adora was so calm now, so silent it was far more intimidating than the jeers and boisterous hatred. 

“Hang on, you can’t do that!” Someone called out, Adora looked over and saw the face of the girl who had woken her from her cell. She was angry, which honestly seemed to be a natural state for her. This time though, it was even more intense, gripping her own blade at her side. “We both know Kyle is still training!” 

“He’s been here for two years!” Octavia said with a laugh in her throat. “If he can’t handle a First Ones throwaway then what good is he to the Horde?” 

Adora watched the woman, the angry one, look back at someone standing a few paces behind her. 

She’d seen him when she arrived, but honestly she thought he was just there to collect the weapons and maybe pass out water or clean wounds. He was small, buried under plated armor that was clearly too big for him. Holding a simple sword with both hands. 

Shakily, Kyle stepped into the center where all the other knights stood watching. Their cheers grew louder as he approached. 

Adora wasn’t stupid, she knew what this was. She was being tested - Octavia wanted to see what she was made of. Wanted to see what Adora would do with someone who was clearly out of their depth. 

He stood before her, sword drawn and unsteady. Adora cast her eyes behind him where the guard from this morning stood. She was tense, but more than that, someone behind her with a sharp mask shaped like a dragon or a lizard was being held back from rushing forward. 

“Dr-draw your weapon!” Kyle shouted, trying to boost his own confidence. Adora looked to Octavia, who merely gestured that she get on with it. 

In one quick motion, Adora drew out her blade and held it on her shoulder. Kyle was struggling to stay steady, she knew if he swung with his current stance, he’d fall over. 

“Widen your base,” Adora said, looking at his feet. Kyle hesitated, glancing down and then back up. Adora nodded and watched as he did what she told him. “Don’t use your upper body to do everything. Legs are stronger, when you swing, use them. Back foot forward, step through the swing, Like you’re walking through a door.”

Adora demonstrated, holding out her sword, swinging at the air and following through with a hard wave of her arm - back leg forward and perfect balance. 

“What the fuck is this?” Adora heard Octavia scream but chose to ignore her. 

Instead, she kept full focus on Kyle, moving back and holding her weapon up to give him a target. 

He did as she did, stepped forward when he swung and put all of his energy into it. The swing was still messy and he did nearly fall over, but the impact on Adora’s blade was loud and knocked her back a little. She planted her foot in the ground, held steady and smiled. 

“Good, that’s good. Just work on that and also your recovery - you’re most vulnerable after a swing. Keep your feet moving and regain your -”

The next thing Adora knew, something hard was connecting with the soft spot between her chestplate and helmet - right in the back of her neck. 

She fell forward, barely able to catch herself as her sword clattered on the ground in front of her. There was a collective gasp and shock from the other knights, but Adora knew what had happened. 

Her ears were ringing and her spine tingled from the contact - Octavia. 

Reaching out, Adora wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword and squeezed it - but before she could stand a foot connected with her ribs again, rolling her onto her back. Adora took a breath, staring up at the sky but that air was locked away when Octavia hovered over her and planted her boot on Adora’s throat. 

“What do you know? You’re right, you are most vulnerable after your swing.” The foot pressed down hard, cutting off her airflow. “Remember your place, leech. Remember where you came from and remember how they failed - how you failed and how they died because of -”

Adora snapped a hand against Octavia’s ankle, sending her crashing to the ground in a heap of metal and bone. She landed with a thud, making a most satisfying noise. 

Rolling over, Adora grabbed her weapon and drew to her feet, a heartbeat later someone ran up to Adora’s side to try and grab her, she threw a punch that connected with his nose and sent him careening away. 

By then, Octavia was up and came rushing at Adora full of rage. She swung her mace as hard as she could, wild and uncontrolled - Adora ducked it easily. She took her moment beneath Octavia to land a firm punch in the weak spot of her armor, just below her ribcage

A strong grip wrapped around Adora’s body, holding her arms at her side and rendering her unable to defend herself. She could see Octavia starting to move and simply reacted - throwing her head back and connecting against something soft. The arms fell away from her and Adora drew her sword up just in time to block the swing of the mace. 

“Enough!” A voice shouted, vibrating off the mountains surrounding the castle. Everyone froze, Adora quickly turned and saw Weaver standing high above on a balcony, looking down with her arms crossed. “Adora, you were supposed to meet with Princess Catra this morning, I order you to leave at once.”

Taking a few breaths to try and calm herself down, Adora sheathed her sword and bowed gently in Weaver’s direction. Her eyes found Octavia and winked at her. 

Octavia growled and lifted her mace. 

“No! Stand down Knight Captain!” 

Adora turned her back on Octavia and walked away, catching the eyes of Kyle and the two who had been so worried over him. The guard from this morning, the angry girl, nodded at Adora. 

* * *

All of Adora’s confidence died as she stood outside of the Royal Chamber where she was almost certain Princess Catra was. 

This was a big deal. This was, according to Weaver, Adora’s future. This girl she’d never met was now going to become the centerpiece of Adora’s life and her survival here. 

She’d never imagined that Hordak had a child, or that a true child could even survive here long enough. Adora had no idea what to expect. By the way Weaver described her, Catra sounded like a bit of a problem child. Adora was good with kids, if only because she could be a little immature herself at times. She liked to play games and burn off energy running and jumping and chasing chickens in the fields. 

It was pretty remarkable how much different the Royal Chamber looked compared to the rest of this castle. The walls were just as high, the stone was just as hard - but everything about it felt softer. There were actual paintings on the walls, handmade and beautiful. 

Most of them anyway, some of them were pretty scary and a few of them were clearly reminders of battles won and the Kingdom's conquered. Adora couldn’t help but wonder when her own lost battle might be forever etched into the walls here. 

The other thing that stood out about this part of the castle were the windows. There were so many of them and the views were breathtaking. The caste, high on the hill, looked down at the rest of Etheria in a way that Adora could only imagine Hordak loved. You could see practically everything - from the rivers and lakes to the Whispering Woods that separated Hordak’s kingdom from the last remaining rebellion left standing against the Horde. 

Adora caught herself staring, studying the woods and wondering mindlessly how long she might have to run through them before she found the other side. If she could survive the monsters and endless mazes that filled those woods - could she find solace and salvation? Could she find help or hope or freedom?

Probably not, but she knew deep down if life here became too unbearable she wouldn’t be against trying. 

“Let it go, Adora.” She chided herself - there was no time for that now. 

The last thing she wanted was to upset Weaver again and have to have another one on one conversation with her. She could still feel the tingle of fingertips on her cheek. It made her skin crawl. 

Carefully, Adora stepped up to the door and reached to know, she hesitated, listening for a moment to see if she heard anything. 

The other side was quiet, this whole area was quiet and empty - lonely. 

Adora knocked three times, the sound echoing off the tall, stone walls. 

“I told you already, I don’t want anything to eat.”

The voice was not what Adora was expecting. It sounded older, not the child she’d imagined the princess being. 

More than that, she sounded angry. 

“I - I have no food with me, My Lady.” 

Another silence filled the air, but it shifted a moment later when there were footsteps clattering across the stone behind the door. A moment later, it opened and Adora was met with the most beautiful pair of mismatched eyes she’d ever seen. 

She couldn’t possibly imagine falling in love with two unique colors in the same breath, but that was exactly what happened. 

The other thing Adora immediately noticed about Princess Catra was her ears - she was a magicat. What she could see uncovered by the gorgeous red and black dress she was, was that her body was covered in the softest, most delicate looking fur Adora had ever seen. 

She was using that phrase a lot. Everything about Catra was the most amazing thing Adora had ever seen. 

“I uh...um…"

“You uh um what? Who are you?” Despite looking soft and delicate, Catra spoke sharply. Her eyes narrowed and anger in her voice. “Are you the cloth eared troll Weaver was sending to babysit me?” 

Adora frowned, “I suppose I am.” She said before bowing slightly. “I am here to serve.”

“Shut up,” Catra groaned before turning and walking back into her room. Half bowed, Adora looked up and sighed, perhaps beauty was only skin deep. “They want someone here to sit and make sure I don’t fuck up Daddy Hordak’s war then fine, but I’m working on something and I don’t need any help. So if you want to stand in the corner and pretend you’re a statue, be my guest.” 

Sighing, Adora rose up to her full height and stepped into the room. 

Catra’s room was...something. The walls were  _ covered _ in markings - scratches that shaped pictures and long scriptures of frustration and boredom. There were tables covered in parchment and one thing she did notice is that where a bed was probably supposed to be, instead was just a ball of blankets and pillows piled up on the floor. 

The candles were another thing - there were dozens. All in different shapes and sizes. The remnants of burnt candles littered the walls and wax practically covered the entirety of her massive windowsill that overlooked the training grounds. 

Adora moved to the corner of the room, staying close to the door and pressing her back against the wall. She kept her eyes focused on Catra who moved to whatever it was she’d been doing. Adora noticed there were fresh claw marks on the wall - a sketch of some kind. It looked like some kind of person - but Adora couldn’t figure out who it was. 

The only thing she noticed for certain was that the person had ears like Catra. 

It was then, watching her, that Adora noticed Catra’s tail. It swirled back and forth, slamming into the floor with each movement of her claws against the stone. When she stopped to think of where she was going to draw next, it stilled - then fluttered down when she picked up her etchings again.

“Hey,” Catra spoke and Adora realized she was staring. “Are you going to close my chamber door or stare at my tail like a freak?” 

“Apologies, My Lady.” Adora stepped over and closed Catra’s bedroom door shut before returning to her post. 

Unfortunately, Catra didn’t go back to her sketch. Instead, she stood up and stepped closer to Adora. “You’re a girl.”

Adora frowned under her helmet. “I am,” she said simply. “I hope that isn’t a problem.”

“Why would it be?” 

“I - I don’t know."

Catra rolled her eyes. “You’re just the first, is all. Usually Weaver sends bumbling cocks at me with no brains and no clue.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that, My Lady.”

“Why are you sorry?” Catra said, frustration in her voice. “Is that all you know how to do? Bow and apologize?” It took great restraint for Adora not to squeeze her fists together. They were too close, the room was too quiet, she couldn’t show emotion like that. “Take off your helmet.”

“My Lady?”

“Seems only fair, I should see your face since you seem to be so entertained with everything about me.”

Adora wanted to know how Catra knew she was staring under the helmet - maybe she wasn’t as hidden and safe as she thought. Still, this was a direct order from a Princess and Adora had no leverage to deny her. 

Gently, she pulled her helmet up and over her head, feeling her sweat soaked hair fall in tangles down her neck. The air in the room was cool, welcoming after a hard morning of trying to survive training. 

When she met Catra’s eyes again, there was something different in them. Not the same snark and anger from before, but...surprise. Her eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open just a bit. It made Adora tense.

Something that clearly didn’t go unnoticed because Catra saw Adora’s reaction and immediately put her angry face back on. 

“You’re a Grayskull, aren’t you?”

It shouldn’t surprise her, there was a certain look to her family - to her people. Adora stood out more than most, with her blue eyes and long, blonde hair. She certainly stood out a lot more now that she was most likely the only one of her people left. 

“I am.” She was not ashamed, but there was always concern now that the admission of who she was would be met with malice. “Or, I was.”

That seemed to grab Catra’s attention. “What does that mean?”

Adora wasn’t sure how far to go, but the weight of what she was feeling was heavy - it plagued her. “My people are gone, Your Grace. There are no more Grayskulls and...having that name here is a curse. It is not welcome - I am not welcome. I do not think I will admit to being a Grayskull any further after today. If only to spare myself more pain.”

The anger in Catra’s eyes faded again, if only for a moment. Adora looked away, wishing she had her helmet on again. 

“So what do I call you, then?” Catra’s voice was soft, as soft as it had been since they met.

“My name is Adora, Your Grace.”

A wry smile played on Catra’s lips. “Okay, Princess.”

“Wh - what?” Adora stammered, she had to stop. “I’m not...I beg your pardon, My Lady?”

Catra shrugged, taking a few steps back and sitting on a chair that was probably more expensive than Adora’s home back in Eternia. “What? You’ve yet to call me by my name, so why should I call you by yours?”

Adora felt her eyes narrow just a bit. Weaver was right about one thing, Princess Catra was...difficult. “I am in your service, My Lady. It is only right that I address you by a title befitting my betters.”

“Your betters?” Catra rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know me. How do you know I’m better than you?”

The grip on her helmet tightened. “You are a princess, I’m only a knight.” 

“Trust me,  _ Princess _ . Nothing makes me more special than you.” Catra’s soft voice was still there, but it was different this time - almost hurt. 

Adora couldn’t begin to explain how much the sad look in Catra’s eyes affected her. “I apologize, My Lady, if I offended you. I’m only addressing you as it seems fit because...I have to.” 

Catra nodded, standing up and moving back to the spot on the wall she was carving into. “Sure, I get it.” She looked back a moment later, a soft smirk returned to her face. “I’m still calling you Princess though. I like how it makes you turn red.” 

Flustered, Adora looked away and heard Catra laugh before she went back to work. 

Time moved slow as the day dragged on. Catra spent most of it drawing, and for a while she simply sat by the window and sipped on a cup of tea that was brought to her door. Adora was bored, but she didn’t mind so much. It was fun to watch Catra move throughout her day, even if it was a little strange to see her cooped up in here so much. 

Catra was wild, at least she seemed that way when she was alone. Her body moved so gracefully, but at the same time it was chaotic. There were times she’d drop onto her hands and knees, almost crawling as she stared at the carvings she was doing. Adora had no idea why she did them or what their purpose was, but the one she was working on now, this strange magical cat woman, was beautiful. 

She almost looked like an older version of Catra - her mother maybe? Adora wasn’t sure, she still had no real idea how Catra was even a princess here at Horde Castle. It didn’t make sense. She looked nothing like Lord Hordak.

But it wasn’t Adora’s place to ask questions. 

As the sun started to hang low in the sky, there was another knock on the door and a woman stepped in. She was smaller and wore a gigantic hat that Adora could only assume was awful to try and keep on throughout the day. 

She smiled at Adora, who nodded slightly in return - then the woman focused on Catra. “Your majesty, your father is requesting your presence at supper this evening.”

“Of course he is,” Catra sighed. “Won’t look good if daughter dearest isn’t next to him celebrating the big victory.” As soon as Catra said it, she threw a look at Adora. 

The big victory, otherwise known as the fall of the First Ones. 

“The food shall be ready shortly, do make haste little lady.”

Catra rolled her eyes, but her expression was soft. “I’ll be there, Delilah.” 

The woman curtseyed perfectly, her mushroom shaped hat never leaving the top of her head. 

As soon as she left, Adora found herself thinking of food - it made her stomach rumble.

“Did you eat today?” Catra asked, surprising Adora.

“I - no, Your Grace. I haven’t. I’m sure I’ll find something at last light.”

Catra shook her head. “How about this, I ask for a second helping at dinner tonight and when I don’t eat it, I’ll have it brought to your room.”

Adora’s mouth salivated. “I - I would...I couldn’t...Your Grace?”

“Listen, you have to relax,” Catra took a step towards her, causing Adora to anything but relax. “It occurs to me that you’re here because...well we both know why you’re here.” Adora frowned but Catra kept going. “You’re the least annoying Knight so far that Weaver has stuck with me and easily the best one to look at.” This time, Catra knew she was making Adora’s face go red. “Also it kind of sucks what happened to your home and...well, everyone should have a full stomach.”

She was not going to cry, she was absolutely not. Not in front of the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. “Thank you, My Lady.”

“Ugh, one day, Princess. One day you'll call me by my name.”

_ One day _ . Adora hoped. 

As they started to make their way out of the room, it suddenly occurred to Adora where they were going and who they would be around. So many people who had fought against her. Lord Hordak himself, the man who had taken such great pleasure in slaughtering her family and friends that he was basically throwing a party. 

The thought made Adora’s hands start to shake and her ears start to ring. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted…

“My Lady?” She said and Catra stopped, confused when she turned around and Adora was still standing in the doorway. “Would...would you mind if I put my helmet back on during the feast?” 

“What? Why?”

“I - I…”

Catra’s head tilted to the side, curious as she stepped towards Adora - her tail fluttering back and forth. “So they can’t see you?” Adora looked down, ashamed at her weakness. When she did, she saw Catra’s hand touch her helmet held at her side. Adora looked up, meeting Catra’s gaze. “You can wear your helmet - and you don’t need to ask my permission to do so.” 

Adora felt a smile touch her lips, the first genuine smile she’d had in days. 

She reached up and moved her hair back, keeping it tucked away as she slid her helmet back on. From there, she followed her Princess down to the dining hall.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is so different than anything I've done before. It's been a lot of fun and I'm trying not to get too caught up in making it perfect, I just wanted to try something new and I'm glad to see people are enjoying it. 
> 
> I won't talk too much, just know that this story is not a slow burn lol. This version of Catra and Adora don't have time for that lol.
> 
> Thank you though, sincerely, for the support. Feedback is so important to motivation and you guys have been great :)

In a shocking turn of events, being granted the position of Knight to Princess Catra had one unexpected benefit - Adora had her own room. 

It wasn’t anything special, but it was positioned close enough to the princess that she could be there if anything happened. 

The room itself was simple. A bed that didn’t look as appealing as even the pile of blankets in Princess Catra’s bedroom. A lone sconce with a candle burning bright and covering the room in an orange glow. There were no windows, but Adora didn’t mind - she felt safe here. Confined, something she had been desperately seeking every day since being brought here in a small cage on the back of a wagon. 

Princess Catra was nothing like her father, or the rest of the Royal dignitaries that surrounded the dining hall during the celebration supper. 

That was hard, harder than Adora had even thought. They laughed so much at all of the things she suffered. Not her specifically, in fact, very few even knew she was in the room. But the stories of bloodshed, of the lives taken and the villages burned were shared with the clattering of mugs and the delight of song. 

To them, Adora’s home was nothing more than a conquest - a competition between soldiers about whom had taken the most life. 

Catra was an enigma though. She didn’t celebrate. She was there, she laughed when she was being watched and drank when the cheers were given out - but in the quiet moments when no one was watching, she seemed uneasy. 

Lord Hordak was every bit the narcissist that Adora had imagined. He thought himself a god, almost on the level of the gods that were prayed to in the churches of castles around Etheria. What was worse was how much everyone around him seemed to believe it as well. 

His vision, his ideal future for Etheria was a cleansing. A wipeout of all those who opposed him. He spoke of his victories, of his vision for order and peace - a peace that would only stand if he were at the top. 

It was with great relief when Catra asked to return to her room, Adora nodded and led her away from the dining hall - down the dimly lit halls and past the sounds of celebration that had scattered well beyond the Royal chamber. 

Catra’s room was quiet, welcoming in it’s isolation. 

Unfortunately, Catra wasn’t in a very good mood by the time they arrived and asked Adora to take her leave. She did, seeking out her new room and hopelessly anticipating a good night's sleep.

Especially considering all the chaos, Catra forgot Adora’s promised food. She was almost aching with hunger, but it was too late. She’d try to find time to eat in the morning. 

Adora found herself stripping out of her armor and hanging it carefully on the stand placed in the corner of the room. 

She stood in her underclothes, grabbing at her sore wrists and bending her knees and back - this was always her favorite time of day. It even had been when she was back home. When the armor came off and she could finally feel the air on her skin and stretch out. 

Of course, back then it happened earlier in the day. After training she'd spend a good two to three hours riding Swift Wind around Eternia. 

Now, it happened at the end of a long day of standing and waiting - of doing nothing but listening to people take joy in the death of her family. 

That, and studying Catra. The most curious person Adora had ever met. 

Just as Adora was pulling down the cover on her bed, she felt the walls crackling with magic. Her body seized up, like it knew what was coming. She stood, not wanting to be any more vulnerable than was necessary as the door opened without warning. 

It was like she knew Adora had taken her armor off.

“Ah, Adora - I’m so glad to see you’ve gotten comfortable in your new room.”

Carefully, Adora put her hands behind her back and bowed. “I am, Shadow Weaver - thank you.”

“Ahah, you remembered.” Weaver slithered towards the bed that separated them. “How was your first day with Princess Catra?” 

Adora swallowed the lump in her throat. “Fine, Shadow Weaver. She spent the majority of it in her room working on her art.”

Weaver sighed. “Ah yes, the  _ carvings _ . She only does it to spite her father and....myself. Disobedient thing, always has been.” Weaver started to move around the bed, closing the gap between them. “Your altercation on the training grounds did not go unnoticed.” She said, suddenly too close again. 

“I - I apologize for that. I was out of line.” Adora fought the urge not to step away. 

Thankfully, Weaver didn’t touch her. “You, my dear, are what I wish Catra was. You know your place.” 

Adora cast her eyes to the mattress, unable to look into that mask anymore. “I do,” she said simply, wanting to be alone. 

Then she felt something touch her arm and Adora’s eyes closed. She was a breath away from inhaling her fear. “Tell me, Adora. Was there anyone special in your life? Before your people were so handily disposed of by the Horde forces?” 

She bit back the bile in her throat. “No, just...just my family.”

“Ah, a shame. A girl as beautifully crafted such as you deserves to be enjoyed.” As she spoke, Adora had no choice but to take a step back. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, not entirely sure why. 

Weaver, fortunately, just laughed. “Think nothing of it, just remember not to cause anymore trouble during training going forward. Remember, as you do with me, your place.”

She nodded, Adora would agree to anything right now if it got Weaver out of her room. 

“Of course,” she nodded, only now realizing she was hugging herself. Adora wished she still had her armor on. 

“Tomorrow, Lord Hordak and I will be traveling to the Crimson Wastes to oversee the treaty of peace he’s been brokering with Lashor and the outlaws there. They wish to step into Hordak’s light and offer ships to cross the ocean and take the fight to Salineas directly. That means while he is gone, Catra will take his place here. We will be gone for a fortnight, in which Princess Catra will be expected to attend meetings, handle the daily chores of running this Kingdom and the subjects of the Horde. I am telling you this, as her knight, to assure me that you will keep her on task."

It was odd to her that Weaver and everyone kept asking her to do things. Why did they ask at all? She was a prisoner. She had no choice. 

“I will.” Adora bowed her head again. 

“Good, child...you’re so good.” 

Adora looked up, watching as Weaver took her leave, the vibration of magic on the walls disappearing slowly. 

She climbed into bed with a numbness in her bones - she wasn’t stupid. She knew what Weaver wanted from her. The lingering touches and the way she spoke...the feeling of her hands on Adora’s skin - it made her stomach hurt. 

_ No tears, Adora. No tears. _

Instead, she covered up with the blanket and closed her eyes, trying to lose herself in memories of days spent riding Swift Wind. 

* * *

Adora’s eyes snapped open at the sound that managed to sneak it’s way into her subconscious. 

She almost welcomed it, drawing her away from a growing nightmare, but the darkness and unfamiliarity of her surroundings brought with it a feeling of fear she wasn’t used to. 

Where was she? The Horde.

Why was she in a bed? Her new room.

How come her body was so tightly wound together? Weaver’s presence had made her feel small and unprotected. 

The sound came through again, a whimper of some kind. It was so faint Adora wasn’t even sure if she actually heard anything or if her mind was playing tricks on her. 

Still, she was a Knight and she had a duty to protect - if there was something happening and she stayed in bed through it, they’d behead her or worse in the morning. 

As she climbed out of bed, Adora contemplated her armor. It would take far too long to put on entirely just to leave the room. If there  _ was _ something going on, missing out on protecting the princess because she was wrestling with her armor for ten minutes would probably fall under the same category as staying in bed. 

Beheading, or worse.

Instead, Adora opted to merely grab her sword and hold it steady at her side as she slipped out of her small room and started making her way down the hall. From the windows that lined the hallway, she could see other parts of the castle. It was surprising to see that there were still so many people moving and working this late at night - Adora wondered if it was an entirely different set of people that spent their time working in the evening and then slept during the day. 

If not for the cover of darkness - it would seem as if nothing ever changed here.

The sound came again, this time louder and more audible - at least confirming that Adora wasn’t going insane. 

Unfortunately, she recognized the sound now - it was crying. Coming from Catra’s room. 

There had been something off about her during the party, no doubt about that. Adora had mostly assumed it was being around all those people, who she clearly didn’t like. She was held up as this great daughter and Hordak even went on a long speech about how he and Catra would stand atop the mountain of the corpses of the Rebellion - bringing a new era of peace to Etheria. 

It was easy to find peace when you’ve killed everyone around you.

Adora wasn’t sure what to do. The closer she was to Catra’s bedroom door, the more obvious it was that she was crying. Was it her place to step in? To ask if she was okay or maybe offer comfort? Would Catra even want that? 

Would she want that from someone like Adora?

Still, the sounds were painful, it hurt to listen to - it drew on some strange protectiveness that sank deep into Adora’s chest. Catra was upset and for Adora, that was reason enough. 

She knocked twice, soft and simple, then spoke. “My Lady? Are you...okay?” 

“I’m fine!” She said, her voice sharp and dismissive. 

Adora winced and drew back, apparently she was not the person Catra wanted to find comfort in. 

Not that Adora should have expected anything else. 

So she turned on her heel and started walking back to her room, only to stop when she heard Catra’s door open. 

Adora turned to see Catra standing there, wearing a red nightgown. Even through the dim candlelight of the hall, Adora could see the puffiness around her eyes. “Hey, Princess.” Catra said. “Do you ever have nightmares?” 

That question, so personal and...vulnerable. “I do, My Lady. More often than I’d like.”

Catra swallowed thickly. “About your family?” 

A rotten feeling settled in Adora’s stomach. “No, My Lady. Those...those aren’t nightmares.” 

“Dreaming about your deceased family aren’t nightmares?”

Adora shook her head. “No, I find joy in seeing them - even in dreams.”

She was worried she might offend, unsure of why, but it still felt wrong for Adora to express joy in this place. Even the memories of it.

Thankfully, Catra simply nodded and brushed at her eyes. “I envy that, being able to remember them. I don’t remember my mother at all.” 

“I’m sure she was beautiful, just like you.” As soon as she said it, Adora chided herself. She was such an idiot - she had no filter. It was only made worse by biting her tongue so much in the last few days. 

Of all the time to slip up.

“I don’t think that’s proper protocol, Knight Princess.” 

“I apologize, Your Grace. That was out of line, I was...I…” Adora stammered and flustered, then the unthinkable happened. 

Her stomach rumbled in the quiet of the hall.

Catra’s eyes went wide at the sound, then her face twisted into a scowl. “The food! I didn’t give you any food. Why didn't you remind me? What’s wrong with you?” Catra hissed and Adora winced. 

“I’m sorry, My Lady.”

For some reason, that made Catra growl even more. “I forget to get you food and you said nothing! Now  _ you’re  _ apologizing? ” 

“My Lady, you seemed distracted, I didn’t want to -”

“You haven’t eaten all day! How are you...how can you just let that happen?”

Adora looked away again, her grip on her sword tightening. “My Lady…”

Before Adora could even start, Catra stomped towards her and flicked her forehead. “You are such an idiot, you know that? Do you want to die? Do you want me to wake up in the morning and tell Hordak you tried to kill me or tried to escape so that he can take you out to the gallows and hang you?”

“No,” Adora shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Then stop being a fool and take care of yourself.”

Adora heard her own voice before she could even register what she was saying. “Why do you care?” She didn’t say it with malice or doubt, just absolute confusion. Why would this Princess, a Horde Princess, care at all about Adora going a day without food?

Catra’s eyes narrowed. “Why do I care? What? Do you think I shouldn’t?” 

“You barely know me,” Adora wasn’t sure why she kept talking, but Catra was leaving her very little room. 

Then something strange happened, Catra’s anger went away, suddenly replaced with a flash of something different. Something Adora didn’t like. “Come on,” she said, storming past Adora but not before grabbing Adora’s hand. It was so small and soft in hers, but somehow felt incredibly powerful. 

Adora let herself be taken out of the chamber hall and down a wide flight of steps to a different level of the castle. There were people here, only a few and Adora was fairly certain they were staff. Still, she was extremely aware of the fact that she was out of her armor and only in a sleeveless shirt and sleeping pants.

“My Lady,” Adora stopped, her weight halting Catra’s motion immediately. 

Catra looked back at her, the anger had returned, but it wasn’t scary. It was almost nice, protective. “We’re getting you something to eat.”

“It’s late.” 

“I don’t care, the cooking staff is up anyway, preparing the meals for tomorrow for the soldiers - they can make you something.”

She was being pulled again, more than that, she let herself be. Catra led her through the long tables, towards the one closest to a door that led to the kitchen. There, Catra pointed at one of the benches. 

“Sit,” Adora did. “Don’t argue,” Adora didn't. “What do you want to eat?”

Adora shrugged. “I’m fine with anything, My Lady.”

Throwing her head back, Catra groaned. “Okay, you listen to me. I am your Princess, am I not?”

“Y - you are.” Saying it like that did something twisted to Adora’s heart. 

Small hands found their way to Adora’s face, squishing her cheeks together. “Then I command you to  _ want  _ something.” 

They were so close, too close. Adora wanted…

She wanted to kiss her. 

The worst possible thought imaginable. To want to kiss someone so far out of her reach. Yes, Catra was beautiful - she was a fireball with the most expressive and captivating personality Adora had ever met. 

She was Adora’s princess. 

She was untouchable. 

“I like eggs and pork,” Adora said her words mumbled by the squishy cheeks. 

Then something magical happened, Catra smiled. All sharp fangs and bright eyes, she let Adora go and turned to walk through the kitchen doors. 

Adora looked around the kitchen, compared to the feast earlier it was almost nice in here. She could appreciate how massive it was - how many tables and benches there were. The Horde was ever expanding, she knew their reach went well beyond these castle walls. It was one of the things that made her feel most trapped. Even if she managed to escape the castle itself - the distance between here and anything left the Rebellion controlled had either an ocean or an endless woods between it. 

She was trapped here. 

“Okay,” the kitchen door opened and Catra came out, particularly delighted with herself. “They’re making you something, should be about five or so minutes.” She sat down, as if this was the simplest thing in the world. 

For a princess, it probably was. Adora could only imagine the staff bending to her every whim to please her - not that Adora could blame them. Catra’s favor was quite nice. 

Still, it was hard for Adora to accept. “Thank you, My Lady.” She bowed her head. For a moment she thought about standing to bow entirely but she didn’t want to get yelled at. 

When she looked up, Catra was rolling her eyes. “Whatever, Princess. You’re no good to me if you starve to death.” Her smile remained - tormenting Adora’s heart. 

“I’ll remember that.” Adora let herself smile, enjoying the way Catra looked at her when she did.

The food that came was amazing - Adora had never had meat cooked so tenderly. She tried her best to be proper - to eat like someone of class and dignity, but once Catra told her to hurry up, Adora went to work. 

“So,’ Catra plucked a bit of meat from the plate and ate it. “You said dreaming about your family doesn’t count as a nightmare for you. So what does?” 

Adora froze, a piece of egg halfway in her mouth. She moved the fork away and set it down on the plate. “Uhm...spiders?”

Catra’s eyes narrowed. “Spiders?” 

“Really big spiders.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re...you...you look like you look,” Adora glanced down at herself with a frown. “And you’re afraid of very small insects.”

“In my dreams they are much bigger. Or maybe I’m smaller. Either way, they’re scary.” Adora finished the thought with a bite of meat that tasted so good she almost made a very unbecoming noise. She’d never been this hungry. 

It also helped that Catra was talking to her and smiling at her and sitting next to her. “So spiders are your weakness huh? What else are you afraid of?” Adora wasn’t sure what to say, she thought about mentioning Shadow Weaver - but she was enjoying the lightheartedness of the meal. 

“Snakes,” she said. “Anything that moves on the ground and can attack my feet.”

“Your feet that are almost always covered in steel boots?”

Adora shook her head. “In Eternia we went without shoes a lot outside of work and battle. It was very warm.”

“You must be hating all of the rain we’ve had here lately. Rains here all the time - it’s dreadful.” Adora smiled, she actually didn’t mind the rain. It was cold, but she’d always had a bit of an overheating issue. 

Adora tormented herself with the desire to try - to press and ask questions. She wanted...she wanted to know.

“What were you dreaming about?” She asked and saw Catra’s eyes widen. Immediately she started to backpedal. “You don’t have to say, My Lady. I apologize for -”

“Stop apologizing,” Catra said with a bit more sharpness in her voice than before. “My nightmares are always the same. I’m on a boat, an empty boat and I have no idea how it’s moving or where it’s going - but I know that I’m not in control of it. I’m alone and...it just keeps going faster and faster and I know at some point I’m going to fall off of a cliff and that will be where I die. But I can never make myself take control of the boat.”

That was...a lot. Far more of an answer than Adora had been expecting. She saw the vulnerability in Catra’s face - the way her eyes softened as she stared at her sharp claws picking at one of the wooden tables. 

Adora wanted to hold her, wrap her up in her arms and protect her. That was her job, but she knew this feeling was something else. 

Still, she couldn’t do that - couldn’t touch Catra like that. 

Instead, she spoke. “Well, as your Knight I can promise you that any boat you are on I will be there with you.” Catra looked up at her and Adora smiled. “My Lady.”

“Maybe one of us would find a way to take control of the boat.”

Adora nodded. “I most certainly would. I’m a champion rower.” She was, she’d won tournaments back home and...Catra was laughing at her. 

“See! This is what I like, take charge, Princess. Row us out of the rapid waters.” Adora would, she knew she would. It was her duty to protect her princess. Even in fictional waters on fictional boats. “Doesn’t surprise me you’re a rower though.” 

Adora frowned. “It doesn't?”

“Have you seen your shoulders?” She looked at her own shoulders, rolling one of them a few times. “Nevermind, Princess. Eat so we can go back to sleep.”

_ We _ . 

The conversation faded, but not in a bad way. Adora went back to enjoying her food and Catra sat and waited for her. It was strange, sitting here like this, Adora almost forgot the gap between them. If this were a tavern in Eternia and Catra was a traveler, Adora would have wasted no time flirting with her. She’d have bought her a drink, asked her if she wanted a ride on the most powerful horse in Etheria and done everything in her power to woo her. 

Unfortunately, that person was gone and this situation was not that. Catra was doing Adora a kindness, but it would be dangerous for her to think too much about it. To slip too far. Yes, she thought Catra was attractive, she thought Catra might just be the most beautiful person she’d ever seen - but that was as far as it could go. 

So, with a last bit of meat on her plate, Adora sat her fork down. “I - I think I’ve finished.”

“Good, now you won’t pass out in the middle of training tomorrow.”

Adora stood, she’d gotten too comfortable. “Thank you, My Lady. You’ve done far too much for me. More than I deserve.” She put her hands behind her back and lowered her head. 

When Adora looked up at Catra again, she looked disappointed. “It’s late,” Princess Catra stood, grabbing Adora’s sword that was resting next to the bench she sat on. She twisted it in her hand, surprisingly handling it well, and offered it to Adora. “Make sure you eat tomorrow, I won’t do this for you every night.”

“Of course, My Lady,” Adora reached out and took her sword. As soon as she had it, Catra brushed past her. 

Adora had no idea what she’d done wrong, but as they made it back to their chamber, Catra said nothing to her before closing her bedroom door and leaving Adora alone in the hallway. 

* * *

Feeling much more comfortable in her full armor, Adora stood and watched as Catra and a small gathering of dignitaries in the castle saw Hordak and Shadow Weaver off on their journey to the Crimson Wastes. 

It was strange to think that they were leaving Catra in charge here, but at the same time it didn’t feel like that would matter much. The castle itself seemed to operate constantly, no matter the situation nothing ever changed. Through day and night, people worked. Adora wasn’t sure if it was the same people but it was never not busy. 

She’d seen very little of Hordak since being brought here and far too much of Weaver - either way, the chain of command seemed to be fearful and it didn’t feel like those two leaving would matter much. 

Still, there was a small party of people seeing them off, praising Hordak for his work and his bravery. 

Catra stood at his side, but she looked uncomfortable. Ears matted down and tail hanging low. It was hard for Adora to fully process how Catra was Hordak’s daughter. They looked nothing alike. He was pale and sharp, not a single piece of fur and his eyes were an almost glowing red. He was evil and dark, he laughed at others misfortune and wished to see the world suffer. 

Catra on the other hand was dark fur and soft, she was kinder than she wanted people to know and based off of her making Adora eat, she clearly wanted no part in other people’s pain. 

As Hordak continued his long speech about their plan to destroy the rebellion, Adora lowered her head and tried to drown out the noise. She knew it was an inevitability - having fought against the Horde, she knew that they were going to conquer Etheria. The Horde had been chipping away at the Rebellion for years and now it was hardly a large enough force to deal with the ever growing Horde Army. 

Once they found a way across the waters to Selinias, it would be over soon after that. The Bright Moon army was strong, but the barrier Selinias created protected them.

Then they would all be here, suffering under Hordak’s rule for however long he deemed it necessary to keep them alive. 

So Adora tried to tune it out, tried to focus on the sound of the wind in the air or a few birds flying overhead. Anything other than Hordak’s voice and the hateful words he spoke. 

Unfortunately, through all the focus on Hordak, Adora didn’t notice the energy crackling around her at first. She was caught off guard when she felt something touch the small of her back - right between two plates of armor. 

“You won’t miss me, will you?” Weaver was right next to her and Adora closed her eyes to calm her suddenly pounding heart. It was curious to her, how Catra and Weaver could both make Adora feel tense, but in entirely different ways. 

“I - I’ll keep an eye on Princess Catra for you. I won’t let her come to harm.” 

Weaver laughed, a twisted sound. “I have no doubt, child. Just be careful with her.” Adora couldn’t help it, she looked over at Weaver who was staring straight forward. “She is a manipulator. Bored in her own miserable life, she’ll toy with people for her own amusement. Doing things for them to make them think she cares - such as feeding them in the middle of the night.”

Adora’s eyes went wide and her body stiffened, that was far too specific. “I - I didn’t…”

“Relax, child - I have eyes everywhere. Something you would do well to remember while I’m gone.” Adora’s throat tightened, she thought she might vomit. “Do not fall for Catra’s games. She does not care about you. She does not care about anyone other than herself.” Adora felt that way about most people here - but she wanted to believe Catra was different. Catra had seemed so different, but then she shut Adora out - for no real reason. She gave Adora food and then didn’t say a word to her on their way back. Was it all a game? “You have your duty, Adora. Remember that - focus on that. Maintain your loyalty to me and I’ll make sure you are taken care of - do you understand?” 

She looked at Catra, standing next to Hordak with an utterly disinterested look on her face. It was foolish of Adora to think anything else. Catra was a princess, Adora was a knight and that was as far as it would ever go. 

“Of course, Shadow Weaver. Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Any and all feedback are appreciated and super motivating :)


End file.
